The Whip Hand

by Whip Hand (epub)

  She gunned the cab up the block and called back to me over her shoulder, "Where to, Mister?"

  I peeped out the back window and couldn't see any signs of pursuit.

  "The railroad station," I answered, "I have to catch a train."

  Chapter 4

  Donald Knowles

  WE was going back to town to take El to the bus station.

  Junior, he was setting there driving just cool as you please, and me, I didn't have a worry in the world. Money in the tow sack itching to get spent, and I was itching to spend it.

  My brother put the brakes on about a block from the bus station.

  "Git out, El," he said. "You better walk the rest of the way."

  "But that's dang nigh a block off, Junior."

  "That don't make no never mind. Ain't taking no chances. Git."

  El dumb out and started hoofing it down the sidewalk towards the station. Junior was smart. I reckon there ain't nobody's got a big brother much smarter than mine. He drove on down the street, and I could tell there was something on his mind. But pretty soon he started talking to me.

  "Donald. Me and you, we got to split up for a spell."

  "You done told me that, Junior. But not yet, huh? Cain't you wait a while and help me buy some new clothes 'fore we leave?"

  "We'll see about it."

  He didn't say no more, but he turned the old LaSalle into a big parking lot. The little old office building in the middle wasn't no bigger than a outhouse but it sure was fixed up and painted a lot nicer. When Junior stopped, a man in white overalls come out of the office.

  "How long you gonna be?" he asked Junior.

  "Reckon I'll stay as long as I want to," Junior said. He don't take nothing off of nobody. He's always been touchy. The man started to open the door on Junior's side of the car.

  "I'll park it for you," he said.

  "I'll park it," Junior said. And he did.

  He pulled over in a empty space four or five rows away from the street. He cut the engine off and just set. He didn't say nothing to me about getting out, so I set too. I just do whatever Junior says do.

  "Donald, here's what. You go down the street and git two suitcases or grips. Buy 'em, and then come straight back. We ain't about to mosey down no city street toting a tow sack full of money. I'll stay here in the car till you git back."

  He handed me a roll of them brand-spanking new bills and I stuffed it in the pocket of my jeans. I started to get out of the car.

  "Donald. Tell me back what I told you to do."

  I did. I ain't near as dumb as Junior thinks I am, but I learnt long ago it's best to go along with him. He just likes to be sure about everything. I reckon he's right to do that.

  The street signs said I went down Commerce Street.

  There was lots of nice stores and I seen a lot of things I wanted, but I didn't piddle none, cause I knew Junior wouldn't like setting there waiting on me in that parking lot. I found a store that didn't have much else but leather stuff in the windows and I went in.

  A man that was mostly face come up to me, rubbing his hands together like they was damp.

  "Looking for something, my boy?"

  "I'm a-looking some."

  "Maybe I can help you?"

  "I want to buy me some grips to put clothes in."

  He was tall and lanky and he turned around and stretched up on a high shelf and drug down a grip. It was mostly cardboard and canvas. I didn't even ask how much it was.

  "I don't want them kind," I told him. "I got to have real leather."

  He grinned at me, one corner of his mouth reaching hard for his ear and the other side staying put. I was getting mad, and I didn't know what in thunder ailed him that he was so thickheaded.

  "I said I want good ones! Ain't you got no nice bags?"

  That fetched him around. He went to the other side of the store and I follered right along. He showed me a real good bag, all saddle leather with hand tooling on it, and zippers on both sides.

  "How do you like this one?"

  I slid one zipper down to open one side and there inside is three bottles and some little cups, and even a corkscrew. Just the thing for a man traveling in Oklahoma. I closed that side and slid the other zipper back. Inside was one of them fancy sets with places for everything and room for clothes too.

  "This is what I'm a-hunting. Get me one more just like this here one."

  "These are one hundred dollars each." He give me that lopsided look again. "Do you wish to write a check?"

  "I don't know nothing about no checks," I told him. "I always pay cash."

  I dug out the roll of money. I don't know why he looked so silly. Seemed like his eyes was gonna pop right out of his head.

  "Never mind wrapping 'em up. I'll carry 'em as is."

  I counted out two hundred dollars while he was writing out a ticket showing he sold them. He give me a copy and taken my money. I took on out, leaving him counting it for the second time. That fool was still shaking his head the last time I seen him. I reckon he was wishing he'd charged me more.

  I went back to where Junior was waiting on me in the old LaSalle. He took one look at them bags and smiled all over his face.

  While he packed our money in them I just stood watching. He didn't ask me to help him. Then I showed Junior the ticket with the price on it and the place where the whisky bottles was under the other zipper. He laughed out loud.

  "Man," he said, "we're eatin' high off'n the hog!"

  Right off we decided to buy some likker to put in them bottles. We picked our bags up and walked off the parking lot and on down the street looking for a likker store. There's lots of them in Dallas. We picked one and Junior bought three bottles of the highest priced drinking whisky the man had. We started to fill the little bottles right there, but the man chased us out. Seems like they got some kind of law says you cain't open a bottle in the same place you buy it from. Don't make sense to me.

  But we found a alley and went in a little ways. Junior opened up one of the bottles and started pouring, easy, into one of the bottles from his grip, so as not to spill ary drop. And then a cop come walking up.

  When I seen him, I wasn't happy no more. Everything come back to me like a mule kicking me in the stomach. I wondered what in thunder that cop would do if he seen all that money in them bags.

  "What're you boys doing?" He didn't sound too put out, yet.

  "If you look right close you can see I'm pouring whisky out of this bottle into this here other bottle," Junior said.

  "I can see that, all right. Nice luggage. Have much trouble boarding freights with it?"

  Junior quit pouring. He looked that cop over, holding them bottles right side up by the necks. He was mad, and I was scared he'd start something. "We breaking any law?" he asked the cop.

  "Well, now, maybe not exactly, I guess. Where'd you get those bags?"

  "Donald. Show him the bill the guy give you down at the store."

  I dug the paper out of my pocket and handed it to the cop without opening my mouth. He read it slow and give it back to me. He didn't seem to understand what it meant. He just walked away, shaking his head. I don't know if it was something about me and Junior or something wrong with them people in Dallas, but everybody shook their heads every time they left us or we left them.

  Junior went on filling them bottles like nothing happened. He didn't spill none, he was so steady; and when he was through he zipped up both of the bags and handed me mine.

  "Hungry, Donald?"

  "Sure am! Always am when I ain't et breakfast and missed supper the night before, too. Like right now."

  "Let's put on the feed bag, then."

  We walked down the street a-piece looking for a cafe. We started past a pawn shop, but we never got by. Junior seen the pistols in the window, and he sure likes guns.

  He looked them all over good and then went to the door.

  "Reckon I better git me a pistol," he said.

  He picked out a good pistol and a
box of shells to shoot in it and didn't have no trouble with the man. But when it come to him wanting the big black leather blackjack the man did give him some lip.

  "What you want with that?"

  "Reckon that's my business," Junior told him.

  "Then it's my business not to sell it to you."

  Junior studied a while. I knew he wanted it mighty bad.

  "I'm just gonna kill hogs with it down at the farm." I'll bet it hurt Junior to lie to that feller. We ain't got any hogs, nor no farm neither.

  The man handed over the blackjack and said, "Well, why didn't you say so?"

  Junior paid him for all the stuff and stuck the blackjack in his hip pocket. He put the pistol and shells in his grip, and we went on out again to look for a place to eat. I wanted a pistol, too, but with Junior already mad over the lip he took, I knew I just better shut up for a spell.

  We found us a cafe and ordered double sizes of ham and eggs, with cold beer to wash it down. We set our bags under the table. My feet was on both sides of mine, just pressing it and liking the feel of it.

  "Donald, as soon as we've et we'll git us some clothes. Long as we got these work clothes on, we're gonna be asked questions by ever fool Texan sees us."

  I washed a big mouthful of good salty ham down my gullet with half a glass of beer and just nodded my head. I sure put away that breakfast.

  When we finished eating Junior took me to this men's store. We both bought suits and all the trimmings, from the skin outwards. I got me a yellow shirt and Junior made me get a suit that was dark brown. It fit with the shirt all right, but I wanted me one with more color in it. I didn't beg Junior, though. I was thinking to myself I could soon buy me any dang thing I wanted.

  Junior, he bought hisself a white shirt and a blue suit and one of them new-fangled, hand-painted ties. That there tie cost him five dollars but it looked real good on him. The blue suit and fancy tie set off his yellow hair just so. We stood together in front of the looking glass and you could tell we was brothers even if he was a head taller than me.

  We was like two people I hadn't never seen when we left that store. We went back to the cafe and Junior ordered two beers. When we got the beer he told me to listen, like I was ever doing much of anything else if he was talking.

  "Donald. El's gone, I hope. I been making a few changes in our plans. It's like this here. Me and you, we're gonna stay right here in Dallas and I'm gonna send for Leonie. Me and her, we'll git hitched and git us a place to live. Me and you will git jobs making good wages and stay right in this old town. I ain't gonna work no farm for nobody else no more, and you ain't neither."

  "We got to get jobs, Junior? With all this here money?"

  "Banks keep money. They'll keep our'n. Mine, leastways. You can do whatever with yore own; but if you live with me and Leonie you got to pay just like any boarder. If you're smart, which you ain't, you'll put yore money in a bank. I don't mean all in one place, but some here and some yonder. Spread it out, like. Dallas is mostly banks and insurance companies, anyhow, far as I can see."

  "I don't care, Junior. Whatever you say. Only I want to have some fun out of this money, too. I cain't see no good of it laying in banks."

  "You got to learn to keep money and have fun too, Donald. You're gitting to be a man now."

  "Oh, all right, Junior. I reckon I can do both."

  "Now then, there's something else you got to know, Donald. You got a good holt on yoreself now, with yore new clothes and yore belly full?"

  "Sure, Junior. I feel real good now."

  "Good thing. I killed that little gal at the tourist camp."

  I couldn't hardly believe what he said. But he don't never lie and don't know how to, so he must have done it. My insides drawed up in a hard knot and I felt like I was going to be real sick in a minute. Tears come in my eyes and I couldn't talk.

  "Don't start blubbering, Donald. It's did and I had to do it. It was either her or us, cause she knowed too dang much. I wouldn't of told you, but you was gonna find out anyways. Now quit, cause I got to do some more planning. We shore cain't leave things like they are now."

  I wiped them tears away and just set there looting at him, wondering how he done it. I hoped he didn't hurt that sweet little gal too bad.

  "You okay now, Donald?"

  I nodded my head up and down. I couldn't say nothing. I reckon Junior was doing his planning cause it was a long time 'fore he said anything, too. He just kept turning his beer glass around and around on the table. Finally he looked up and started talking again.

  "I'm going back out to that there tourist camp. I don't like the idy of messing around out there, but I'm worried. I got to git that gal and take her somewheres and hide her, or bury her. Some place where nobody never will find her. Understand, Donald?"

  I understood all right, but all I could see was that little gal, so cute, hanging onto my hand and calling me Uncle Don. I wondered again how he done it, but I couldn't ask him.

  "I understand, Junior."

  "Well, the sooner the better. You wait on me right here, Donald. And take it slow on the beer. We cain't git drunk yet. You hear me, Donald?"

  "I'll stay here, Junior."

  "I mean about the beer guzzling, too."

  "I won't."

  "You better not. I won't be gone too long. Keep yore trap plumb shut about us, you hear?"

  "Sure. I ain't gonna say nothing."

  I looked up in a minute and Junior was gone. I ordered another beer and drunk it, but it didn't taste good no more. Just something cold going down, and I was cold enough in my insides already.

  Somebody passed the table and bumped into my arm. I started to tell whoever it was to watch out where they was going, but I seen it was a gal. She was smiling at me, and she set down in Junior's seat. She had too much paint and powder on her face, but was a pretty little heifer anyhow.

  "What're you crying about?" she asked me.

  "I ain't crying."

  "I'm sorry. I thought you were."

  "Well, I ain't."

  She reached over and run the ends of her fingers across the back of my hand.

  "All right, honey. You ain't. I could stand a glass of beer."

  I knocked my glass on the table and stuck up two fingers for beer. When the guy brought it over and she lifted her glass to drink it, she looked at me across the top like I was really something, and winked at me. She downed the beer like she was mighty dry.

  "Lonesome, honey?" she asked me.

  "Naw, I ain't lonesome."

  "I am. Real lonesome."

  "Well, I'm real sorry, miss. You can set here and talk to me. I'm waiting on my brother."

  "It's not very comfortable here, do you think?"

  "Good enough for me, I reckon."

  "Why don't we go up to my room?" she said, and she was twiddling with my hand again. Texas people don't never seem to hear what I say!

  "I told you I'm waiting on my brother."

  "You can wait up there. He can come up afterwards. The bartender can tell him."

  Her fingers was under my chin now, and I reckon I was liking it, sort of.

  "I better not," I told her, but some more words slipped right out of my fool mouth. "Where you live?"

  "In a nice room. Handy. Right next door in the Crescent, honey."

  "Well, I might like to see your room. Might want to get one around here myself. And since you're lonesome, maybe I could go up just a little while and cheer you up some."

  "Oh, you're sweet. I knew you would be when I saw you here looking so sad."

  She was up and raring to go. I stood up, thinking Junior wasn't due back for quite a spell, and I couldn't see no harm in it. Junior'd think I was dumb if I was to walk off and leave a pretty gal I had eating right out of my hand.

  I lifted my bag of money and we started for the door. She yelled at the bartender.

  "If his brother comes back tell him he's with me."

  The bartender held up his right hand and made a circle
with his thumb and finger. I reckon he heard what she said.

  She opened the door and I walked on out with her.

  Chapter 5

  Bill Brown

  I SAT behind my lady driver, riding the front four inches of the rear seat, twisting around and looking through the back window of her cab, ready to hit the floor boards.

  After sitting that way for two blocks, I slowly let out my breath when nothing happened. For the time being I had postponed a closer acquaintance with my friends who missed me at the hotel.

  "Say, Mister, why don't you relax? I don't ever have accidents any more."

  "What? Oh--just not used to lady taxi drivers, I guess."

  "Don't girls drive cabs where you come from?"

  "Some, I guess. Say, I've changed my mind. Drop me at the bus station instead, will you?"

  "Which bus station?"

  "The Greyhound--This isn't a very friendly town, is it?"

  "Oh, I wouldn't say that, Mister. Not as much as Fort Worth, maybe. Depends on what kind of friends you like, I guess."

  "Could be that, I guess."

  "Where you from?"

  "Montana."

  She rolled the cab to a smooth stop at the bus station. I read the meter and paid her.

  I circled around the bus station looking for the cause of my recent high blood pressure. I spotted him through the window, and he was a very, very sad hick.

  He was standing near the lockers, and as I watched he walked over and searched an empty one, running his whole arm into it and feeling all around the edges with his hand. He turned away with the bewildered look of a small child who has witnessed a coin disappear right before his eyes. A coin had disappeared for him, all-right. A lot of coin.

  I entered, circled around behind him, and tapped him on the shoulder.

  "Pardon me, fellow, but didn't you get the wrong key?" I asked him. I smiled pleasantly into his yellow eyes.

  He sputtered and gulped. I guess my new shave fooled him for a second. Then suddenly his eyes lit up, flickering like two neon tubes.

  "I shore did, Mister! And I'm shore glad to see you, let me tell you."

  I could believe him. There was true joy in the folds of that face.